THE chorus began at the end of the third quarter, because the Giants were getting belted around the ring by The Little Sisters of the Poor Dan Reeves.
“Fi-re Fassel. Fi-re Fassel. Fi-re Fassel.”
Inside this stadium, where we have heard “Joe Must Go” and “Ray Must Go” and “Kotite Must Go,” the chant more often than not signals the beginning of the end.
Ownership hears the fans. And sees them fleeing to the parking lots with five minutes left.
It is one thing to underachieve and preside over unconscionable special-teams collapses, quite another to let The Little Sisters of the Poor Dan Reeves whip your butt in your own backyard, where you are 1-4.
The rallying cry was supposed to be Keep Shoveling. They ought to change it to Keep Dreaming.
Because right now this isn’t a playoff team, and if Jim Fassel isn’t a playoff coach with a team that management believes should be a playoff team, then the head coach won’t survive.
After Falcons 27, Giants 7, this is what the now-embattled, shell-shocked coach told his humiliated players: “If you’re trying to run me out of town, you’re doing a good job of it.”
Fassel has always prided himself on his team playing hard. “I can’t say that today,” he said.
He is starting to lose his fan base, and if he has lost his team, it will be Goodbye, Jimmy.
He warned them about this trap. They didn’t listen. Fassel was asked about “Fi-re Fassel.”
“We have had three ugly losses at home, ugly, ugly losses,” he began. “I can understand the fans being upset. I’m upset, I don’t like it. I knew that was what I was going to get when I came here if I didn’t do well. That’s just the nature of the beast. If you don’t like it, if it’s too hard for you to handle, then don’t ever come here and don’t coach this team ever, OK?”
The heat is hot, but Fassel is not the sort to get out of the kitchen. But he is playing with fire.
“We’re making him look bad, because it’s not him, it’s us,” Tiki Barber said.
But he’s the one responsible for the product. The buck stops with him. And Fassel’s 4-5 Giants weren’t worth a cent.
Start with the harried quarterback throwing ghastly interceptions (two yesterday, one into double coverage in the end zone) and the running back who won’t stop fumbling (two yesterday inside the red zone, five for the year).
It was a vertically-challenged offense – Barber caught 10 passes for 38 yards – that couldn’t punch its way out of a big blue paper bag and a defense (216 rushing yards) that was not tough enough.
It was an undisciplined team (nine penalties) that didn’t want the damn game more than the 1-7 Little Sisters of the Poor Dan Reeves.
I asked Carl Banks what the locker room would have been like if the Bill Parcells’ Giants had been held to a 7-7 halftime tie by The Little Sisters of the Poor Dan Reeves.
“Trash cans tossed,” Banks said, “and a lot of F-bombs.”
So what happens? The Falcons ram it down Big Blue’s throat, and Kerry Collins, blitzed out of the empty set, is picked off by Todd McBride, and Barber fumbles at the Atlanta 5, and goodbye, Allie.
“It was embarrassing to me, it was embarrassing I’m quite sure to all of our coaches, embarrassing to our fans and embarrassing to our owner,” Allen said.
And to every Giant to wear the uniform, which is why Harry Carson was shaking his head in disbelief in the locker room.
“Does anyone want Jim to get fired?” Collins said. “No. Are we a long way from that. I think so.”